


Distraction

by ennedepaix



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-09
Updated: 2012-05-09
Packaged: 2017-11-05 01:51:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ennedepaix/pseuds/ennedepaix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Dumbledore’s meddling can have unexpected consequences. Admissions and revelations abound when Harry and Draco get sent to counselling.<br/>Originally written 2005.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distraction

Professor Snape was not usually a man who was easily startled. Nevertheless, the unexpected is always possible, no matter how unlikely it may be. While on his way to see his favourite student, and godson, he unwittingly found himself with an armful of a fifth-year, naked, male Ravenclaw. He frowned and set the boy back on his feet, careful to only touch his shoulders and arms. The boy was blushing furiously and cupping his privates with a hand to cover them from the Potion Master’s view.

“E-Evening, Professor S-Snape,” he stuttered. Snape raised an eyebrow.

“Indeed, Jonson. If you don’t mind my asking… What, pray tell, are you doing in the Slytherin dormitories at half past nine at night… **naked**?”

“Well, I er… I mean… What happened was-“ The boy was provided with an excuse to prevent further explanation and Snape was provided an answer to the question when a door opened and an underwear-clad Draco Malfoy entered the corridor with a bundle of clothes.

“Here, you forgot these in you whirlwind of an exit, Jones,” Draco said, dropping the clothes at the boy’s feet. The boy scrambled to pull them on, at the same time muttering,

“It’s Jonson, actually.”

“You think I care?” Draco questioned. “Hey, Snape,” he added, seeing the man.

“Fifteen points from Ravenclaw, Jonson. Now hurry up and get out of here,” Snape ordered brusquely. Jonson nodded, swiftly making his way out of Slytherin territory. Draco smiled at Snape and returned to his room, the older Slytherin close behind. Severus closed the door and watched as Draco lit a cigarette and stretched out on his back on his immaculately made bed. 

“You know I should report this. He’s underage,” Severus commented. Draco exhaled and Severus watched the stream of smoke trail up to the ceiling, dispersing amongst the air as it went.

“Yeah, I know. Good job I didn’t fuck him, really, isn’t it?”

“You didn’t?”

“No,” Draco replied with a long-suffering sigh. “He gave me a blow job and I tossed him off. No age of consent for that, now is there? I’m not a fool, Severus.”

“Hmmm,” was Severus’ sceptical acceptance of this reply.

“Oh, who cares if you believe me, anyway? I know I’m telling the truth and that’s basically all that matters. What are you doing here?”

“On an errand from Dumbledore. He wants to see you. He’s…” Severus grimaced. “… concerned about you and wants to have a word or two… thousand. I wish you good luck, Draco. I hope talking to the man doesn’t harm your mental health too much.”

“All depends what he decides to talk about, doesn’t it? When have I got to see him?”

“Now.” Severus watched his godson blow smoke-rings.

“What’s the password?”

_“After Eights.”_

“Fine.”

******* 

_“After Eights,”_ Draco pronounced as he came to a stop in front of the entrance to the Headmaster’s office. He made his way up the moving staircase and knocked on the inner door before entering without awaiting a reply.

“Ah, Draco, my boy. Thank you for coming so promptly. Have a seat.”

“Headmaster.” Draco inclined his head and sat down.

“Tea? Or perhaps a boiled sweet?”

“No… thank you, sir.”

“How are you, Draco?”

“Perfect as perfect can be, Professor. Although, I am slightly perplexed as to why you wanted to see me. Professor Snape said you were… concerned, I believe was the word he used. Is that right? Are you concerned about me?”

“Indeed I am, Draco,” Albus replied. Draco ground his teeth together. ¬¬¬¬ _Stop saying my fucking first name like that, you git,_ he thought. _We’re not friends and I don’t even want to be here._ Draco fancied he saw Dumbledore’s eye twitch and suddenly wondered if the rumours about the old man being a mind-reader were true. Either way, Dumbledore continued to speak as if nothing had happened. “I am well aware of your… shall we say ‘extra-curricular activities’? And those are the things concerning me.”

“What activities might these be, sir?”

“Your relations with other students; your intake of alcohol, drugs and cigarettes; your attitude to your fellow Slytherins. In fact, Draco, this is, in particular, the most concerning aspect of your recent behaviour.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because you seem to be reluctant to socialise with your own house.”

“They’re all wankers, sir. With a scant few exceptions.”

“I’m aware of your opinion of your housemates, Draco, but I am not the person you should be talking to about this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m referring you to one of our resident counsellors.”

“Excuse me?” Draco leant forward, tilting his ear towards the professor.

“I said, I’m referring you to one of our resident counsellors.”

“Why?” Draco yelled, standing up angrily. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“So you believe, Draco. You need to talk to someone to whom you have no connection with regarding your personal problems.”

“I don’t have any personal problems, you crazy old coot!”

“In your opinion, you have no personal problems, Draco, but other people from the outside see it differently.” Dumbledore held out a piece of parchment towards the Slytherin boy, who sneered.

“I don’t need fucking counselling!” 

“This is not negotiable, Draco. Here’s your appointment slip. If you fail to attend of your own volition, you will be accompanied there by a professor. It will do you good, Draco, even if you don’t realise it now.”

Draco stared and then snatched the parchment out of the old wizard’s hand and stormed out, muttering profanities as he went.

******** 

The next day, Draco slumped onto one of the chairs in, what he assumed to be, some sort of waiting room. He didn’t notice the other boy in the room until he spoke.

“Afternoon, Draco,” the other occupant greeted him. Draco looked up.

“Harry. What are you doing here?”

“I have problems apparently.”

“Oh, I see. Me too… apparently.”

“You got summoned by Dumbledore as well then?”

“Yes. And what a joyous visit it was too,” Draco spat sarcastically. “So, what are you in for, Potter? What problems do you supposedly have?”

“Post-traumatic stress disorder and anti-social behaviour. According to my appointment slip, anyway. How about you?”

“Well, let’s have a look-see, shall we?” Draco pulled the aforementioned slip out of his robes with a flourish. “Right then. Also, anti-social behaviour; reluctance to form attachments to other people; inability to show emotion; smoking, which in the world according to Dumbledore is something that needs counselling; drug use; alcoholism… ah, and the piéce de resistance… sex addiction. A veritable plethora of problems, wouldn’t you say?”

“Definitely. Compared to my mere two problems, I’m actually rather jealous,” Harry said, prompting a lopsided smile that Draco, catching himself, tried to turn into a smirk. “Although, if you got smoking and drinking on yours, my total comes to four. It would seem that Dumbledore hasn’t picked up on my affection for those two vices.”

“And here we all are, thinking he knows everything, eh?” Draco commented, leaning his head back on the wall his chair was pushed up against. There was a silence. “What time is your appointment?”

“Quarter past two but it’s already twenty past. The man just told me that he’s running late. What about your appointment?”

“Quarter past three.”

“You’re here an hour early. Any reason why?”

“Nothing better to do, it’s raining outside, I have no work to do and it’s quieter here than at Slytherin.” Draco said with a shrug, still with his head against the wall, staring at the ceiling.

“Oh.” The silence returned. “So… sex addiction, Draco?” Harry asked tentatively and curiously. Draco let out a short laugh.

“It’s hardly an addiction, Potter. More like a healthy appetite.”

“Then why did Dumbledore call it an addiction?”

“Probably for the same reason he took my occasional hankering for a drink to mean that I am an alcoholic; because he’s more of a drama queen than I am. And that’s saying something.”

“Don’t I know it,” Harry mumbled.

“I heard that, Potter. Anyway, I think it’s also because it’s always just sex and never a relationship. The Headmaster seems to find this concerning.”

“Why is it never a relationship?”

“Because I’m not going to have a relationship just for the sake of it. If I liked someone enough to do more than fuck them then, yeah fine, I’ll spend more than a few hours with them but… it’s just sex and there’s nothing wrong with that. I don’t lead people on and I don’t force them into doing things they don’t want to do.”

“So you’re not a sex addict or an alcoholic or a druggie?”

“No. I just have a lot of sex, have the odd drink and do the odd bit of marijuana. It’s all just a distraction anyway,” Draco said with a sigh.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked with a frown, even though Draco couldn’t see the bunching of his brows.

“I don’t like having to think about the fact that the one person I want probably isn’t going to be wanting me in return anytime soon. So I need a distraction.”

“Bit of an extreme distraction, or set of distractions, isn’t it?”

“Oh fuck yes. It’s an out-and-out **campaign** of distraction. Unfortunately, it’s needed and I wish to Merlin it wasn’t.”

“What, exactly, is it you need distracting from? I mean, you said that **you** think this person won’t want you anytime soon but surely you can’t need that much of a distraction from that one particular thought?”

“I… I don’t even understand my feelings for hi-… this person and I don’t like having to try and understand them. It has a tendency to hurt my head.”

“You were going to say ‘him’, weren’t you? Before you said ‘this person’, you were going to say ‘him’.”

“So what if I was, Potter? What do you care?” Draco snapped.

“I don’t, Malfoy, calm down. What do you mean you don’t understand your feelings?”

“I mean I don’t know what they are.”

“Do you like him?”

“Do I **like** him, Potter? What an insipid question.”

“Okay. Do you fancy him?”

“Like fucking crazy. He’s bloody stunning.”

“Do you want to shag him?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to have decent conversations with him?”

“Sometimes. Although, sometimes he just annoys the hell out of me. I already talk to him quite often. He’s one of the few people I actually talk to through my own choice.”

“Do you want to spend time just… being with him?”

“I guess so, yes,” Draco said quietly. He finally stopped looking at the ceiling and tipped his head forward, staring at Harry intently.

“Do you love him?” Harry asked.

“What?” Draco croaked, throat and mouth suddenly devoid of moisture. 

“Are you in love with him?”

“In love with him?” Draco repeated blankly. There was a short pause before he stood up abruptly, staring down at Harry angrily. “What kind of fucking question is that, Potter? What the hell has it got to do with you? I don’t even know what I feel so you asking endless questions really isn’t going to help me. What the fucking shit do I know about love? I love my mother but that’s hardly the same as what you’re talking about, is it? What’s love feel like, Potty? Because I’m utterly innocent when it comes to that subject, no matter how ironic it may seem that I’m in any way innocent. Haven’t I told you enough without you asking if I’m in love with him? How dare you!” 

“Shit, Draco. It was only a question! I just thought you might prefer to talk to someone you know rather than some stranger with a social sciences degree.”

“Well, maybe you thought wrong!” Draco screamed, his voice shrill and unsettled. He slumped back into his seat and leant forward, placing his head in his hands. He felt the brush of Harry’s robes against him as the boy took a seat next to him but he didn’t look up.

“Draco, what’s wrong with you?” Harry asked gently. Draco didn’t reply. Harry put a hand on his shoulder but the Slytherin shrugged it off harshly. Harry sighed. “I was only trying to help, you know?”

“I know,” Draco murmured. “And perhaps you did and I just don’t want to admit it. I was serious, though; what the fuck do I know about being in love? After all, if Dumbledore thinks I’m a sex addict, maybe there’s truth in it.”

Harry chuckled. “You’re not a sex addict, Draco.”

“How do you know?”

“You haven’t tried to jump me yet, have you?”

“You’re awfully self-assured, aren’t you? I’m sure even sex addicts have some standards.”

“Yeah, well…” Harry trailed off, not knowing why he started that sentence. Draco dropped his hands to his lap listlessly but didn’t look at Harry until the Gryffindor said something that shocked him. “You know, if you were ever interested… I wouldn’t mind helping you stay distracted.”

Draco’s head flew up to see Harry nervously looking at him. “What do you mean?”

A blush started to burn on Harry’s cheeks. “Nothing, forget it.”

“You’d sleep with me?” Draco asked. Harry’s answer was a shrug. “Why?”

“Because…” Harry trailed off, again not knowing why he started his sentence. “I don’t know. I haven’t really had a shag for a while and it’s not like you don’t have a reputation for being amazing. I don’t know,” he said again.

“Thank you for the offer but,” Draco began, his voice oddly strained as he forced himself to reject the young man’s suggestion. “I don’t think it’ll happen. Not for any reason concerning you. This is all me.”

“Whatever. It was just a suggestion,” Harry mumbled, moving back to the seat on the opposite side of the room.

“Harry, honestly, this isn’t because of who you are. I promise. Please, don’t get upset. This is my problem.”

“Whatever,” Harry repeated. “It’s not important. Obviously, you don’t need to take offers. I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t know why I even though about it. I’m hardly worth your time, after all, I’m just a weedy little Gryffindor.” Harry’s voice was not bitter, as Draco had expected. Instead it was self-deprecating as if Harry believed the things he was saying about himself.

“This isn’t because I think you’re not worth my time or anything like that. I have a reason. A real reason, okay?”

“Let me guess, you’re not going to tell me what the reason is?”

“Harry, I-” Draco was interrupted by a door opening and a fourth-year Hufflepuff passing through the waiting room. A bespectacled, middle-aged man came through after her.

“Mister Harry Potter?” he asked with expectant, raised eyebrows.

“That’s me,” Harry said, looking up at the man briefly. 

“Come on through when you’re ready,” the counsellor said, returning into the other room and pushing the door closed behind him. Harry stared at Draco as he stood up.

“I wouldn’t mind talking to you again, Malfoy, but I think maybe we should forget the last part of that conversation. It’s probably best for the both of us,” he said. He saw Draco’s jaw clench and when the blonde made no reply he turned to the entrance of the counsellor’s office. He was about to push the door open when Draco finally spoke the words,

“It’s you, Potter,” with a sigh. Harry stalled with his hand on the doorknob.

“Pardon?” he said without turning around. “What’s me?”

“You’re the reason I won’t sleep with you. You’re the person.” To Harry’s ears, Draco sounded exhausted. “It’s you.” Draco saw Harry’s knuckles go white around the door-handle. 

“What person am I?”

“The person I need distracting from,” Draco admitted. “That’s why I won’t sleep with you. I won’t just have you for one night. I’d rather not have you at all. I don’t know why I fucking admitted this. Probably because **you** looked so bloody upset. I’m such a wanker! I’d better just piss off before this gets any more embarrassing. Not that it can considering I’m talking to your back because you won’t fucking turn around!”

Harry turned slowly. His face was white. “I… What do you want me to say?”

“Oh, I don’t know, how about… oh, yeah, **anything**!” Draco shouted. “I just told you everything I’ve been fighting to keep to myself and you wouldn’t even look at me. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Potter!”

“What the fuck am I supposed to say? You’ve just told me that you might be in love with me and that, even if you weren’t, you want a relationship with me and I’m the only person you’ve ever wanted for more than a shag. Then you declined the offer of sleeping with me and all this happens after you tell me that Dumbledore thinks you’re addicted to sex!”

“I’m not addicted to sex!”

“I don’t fucking care! Either way, if you are or not, you still said you wanted me yet you turned down the opportunity to fuck me and said you’d rather not have me at all. I don’t understand, Malfoy. If I were you, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I turned it down. How can you live like that?”

“I can’t! I hate living like this! You have no idea what living like this does to me but that doesn’t change a single bloody thing!”

“Why don’t you tell me what living like this does to you?” Harry asked.

“Why don’t you mind your own business?” Draco retorted sharply.

“I still don’t understand, Malfoy. I don’t understand why you turned me down, made me think you didn’t want me when really I’m **the** person you **do** want. You at least owe me an answer to that, surely.”

“You really think I can have a taste of you and then let you go off and find someone else while I continue a meaningless, if sexually fulfilled, life? Fuck that!”

“I’m just saying if I was in your place and the person I wanted more than anyone else offered themselves to me on a silver platter, no questions asked, I would accept, even if it was for just one night. I don’t understand why you wouldn’t.” 

“Well, you’re not in my place but if that’s what you think then fine! Let’s see how that would go!” Draco flew up from his chair and swiftly crossed over to the Gryffindor. He grabbed Harry’s arm, pulling him against his body and then his tongue was in the boy’s mouth. Harry’s sound of protest was muffled against the hard pressure of Draco’s mouth. He pushed against the Slytherin’s chest and after a few moments, Draco finally relented but didn’t let go of Harry’s arm. He stared at Harry’s face; he could easily tell the boy was scared of his behaviour. He was shaking all over. “That’s what living like this does to me. It makes me callous. That’s why I won’t have you for just one night. If I do, that’s what it’ll be like. Hard, fast, uncaring. You deserve more than that. It shouldn’t be like that with you but if it’s only for one night, it will be.”

“Why?”

“Because if it’s only one night, I wouldn’t allow myself to care enough,” Draco told him. “It shouldn’t be like that,” he repeated.

“What should it be like?” Harry asked quietly; his voice shaking the same as his body.

“Are you asking me to tell you or show you?” Draco asked.

“Show me,” Harry replied nervously. Draco wasn’t sure if his shock showed outwardly or not but he definitely felt it snap through his body. He didn’t wait to check with Harry in case the Gryffindor changed his mind. Draco leant forward and placed his lips over Harry’s, running his hands up to cup his face. He moved his mouth gently and slowly against Harry’s and didn’t do anything else until he felt hesitant hands placed against his hips and a returning pressure on his lips. He moved forward, cautiously pressing Harry against the counsellor’s office-door. A second later, Draco withdrew.

“You have an appointment,” he said breathily, releasing Harry’s face from his hold. Harry, eyes lidded heavily, nodded but did not liberate Draco’s hips from the grip of his fingers. “You have to let go of me, Potter,” Draco pointed out. Harry frowned in confusion and Draco glanced down.

“Oh!” Harry let go, following his gaze then looked away bashfully. “Sorry.”

“Not a problem,” Draco muttered with a funny little half-smile on his face. “Have fun being counselled.”

“I’ll try.” Harry reluctantly turned away from Draco and opened the door to the office. He glanced back to find Draco sitting down with closed eyes and a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Perhaps you could come and see me some time. You know where to find me, Potter.”

Harry nodded nervously before he realised that, what with his eyes being closed, Draco couldn’t see. “All right. Perhaps I will.”

“Hmm, the password’s _Manic Idiocy._ ”

“Okay. See you around, Malfoy.”

“You do that.” Draco opened his eyes when he heard the door close and heaved a sigh. “Draco Manus Malfoy, what have you gotten yourself into?”

******* 

After dinner that same evening, Harry only spent a short amount of time in the Gryffindor common room before making his excuses and telling Hermione not to worry if he was back late. Remembering the password to Draco’s rooms, he made his way to the dungeons. He really didn’t expect Draco to be naked when he walked in to the boy’s quarters.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, turning around swiftly and blushing as he scolded himself. He heard Draco laughing and took a deep breath. “Malfoy, have you got clothes on yet?” he ventured.

“No, not just yet. One minute, I promise, Potter. You know, it’s strange, you’ve been at a boarding school sharing a dorm with boys for seven years and for some reason you’re acting like you’ve never seen the ever-common species of male arse.”

“It’s different!”

“What, my arse?”

“No! I mean, yes. Ugh! Not your arse itself; just the fact that it’s you. Anyway, just shut up and put some clothes on, would you?”

“All right.” Draco chuckled again. “You can turn around now,” he informed the Gryffindor. Harry did so nervously, finding that the Slytherin’s idea of clothes was merely a pair of black boxer shorts and a sinfully tight dark grey t-shirt.

“Malfoy?” Harry said, his voice oddly strangled. Draco raised an eyebrow in question. “Could you maybe… Oh, never mind.”

“Good. Have a seat, wherever you may please,” Draco offered. Harry sat on the armchair adjacent to Draco’s bed, watching the blonde who was rifling through one of the drawers in his desk. “Aha!” Draco retrieved a pack of cigarettes and a box of matches from the dark recesses of the drawer and hopped up onto his bed, sitting cross-legged. Harry found himself staring at the crease of Draco’s knee. He looked up when a packet was held in front of his face. “Fag?” Draco suggested. Harry took one and Draco lit it for him, purposely watching the flame burn out on the match and striking a separate one for his own cigarette. Harry seemed entranced by the sight of the match’s flame flaring brightly; dually reflected in Draco’s eyes. Draco blew out the match and inhaled deeply from his cigarette. Harry followed, his fingers shaking. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon, you know?”

“Really?”

“No. I thought you’d be far too traumatised by your counselling session to end this day with a visit to your favourite Slytherin. Then again, I’m assuming your session was similar to mine.”

“What was so bad about yours?”

“That’s a story for another day, Potter.” Draco paused. “Why did you come so soon?” he asked. Harry shrugged. 

“I was curious, I guess.”

“What incited this curiosity?” Draco asked. Harry shrugged again, concentrating on his inhalation of nicotine a lot more than was necessary. “The fact that I kissed you, perhaps?”

“Perhaps,” Harry admitted hesitantly.

“Hmmm. That second time I kissed you… I’ve never kissed anyone that way before.”

“What way?”

“Like I gave a shit.”

“Oh.”

“What kind of conversation are we meant to be having here, Potter? Because at the moment it seems fairly one-sided.”

“I’m sorry. I’m still confused about everything.”

“Why did you offer yourself to me? Why did you say you’d let me fuck you?”

“Because I would let you.”

“But why? Why me?”

“I… I haven’t done it before,” Harry revealed. Draco was taken aback.

“Oh… You mean you haven’t done it with a male?”

“Er, well…”

“Oh. **Oh.** ”

“Yeah.”

“So, when you said you hadn’t had a shag for a while, you meant you hadn’t had a shag ever?”

“Yes. I’m a virgin. Is that what you want to hear me say? I’ve never gone that far with anyone before. Harry Potter is a virgin, all right? You didn’t have to rub it in, Draco, you really didn’t. I’m perfectly aware of it myself, okay?”

“I wasn’t trying to rub it in, Harry. I’m sorry. I was just trying to get it straight in my head.”

“Fine.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you’d let me shag you. In fact, it makes even less sense now. Why would you want me to be the first person you do it with? This is a really important thing. I’m nothing to you. Why would you choose me?”

“Firstly, you’re not nothing to me. Second, I’d choose you because I trust you more than anyone else in this school, believe it or not. I don’t want to lose my virginity to some skank who’ll spread it around that they slept with ‘The Boy-Who-Lived’. You have a reputation for sleeping with a lot of people, that’s true, but you aren’t the one that boasts about it. I’ve never heard you sing your own praises in that respect. It’s the other person every time. They want to show off the fact that they slept with you. You don’t do that. So, a selfish reason I guess and I’m sorry for that, but it’s also that I think you’d care about whether I was… comfortable… or not and whether I liked what was happening. I’d trust you to make it something I’d **want** to remember and not something I **have** to because it was so awful or embarrassing. I know that’s why some people have to remember their first time and I reckon I’ve got enough awful things to remember as it is without having to add that to the list.”

“Shit, Potter.” Draco was utterly dumbstruck.

“What?”

“I can’t believe you just told me all of that.”

“Why not? I told you I trust you. There’s no reason not to believe it.”

“Huh,” Draco said, raising an eyebrow thoughtfully. “So,” he started, stubbing his cigarette out in an ashtray on his bedside table. “What happens now?”

“How the fuck do I know?”

“I thought you might have an idea of what you wanted to do?”

“What options do I have?” Harry asked, also stubbing out his cigarette. Draco ran an index finger over his bottom lip thoughtfully, noting with interest out of the corner of his eye that Harry was transfixed by the movement.

“Well, you could leave and we could forget this whole incident,” he suggested. Harry shook his head fervently, quickly saying,

“No.”

Draco allowed himself a small grin. “Or we could continue talking with each other.”

“Maybe.”

“Or…” Draco fixed his eyes on Harry, who despite his blush, did not look away. “I could kiss you again.”

“That might be nice,” Harry whispered. When it became obvious to Draco there was no way Harry would initiate anything, he unfolded his legs, gracefully standing up and sauntering around the bed to stand in front of Harry. When Harry met his eyes, Draco’s mouth twitched, wanting to smile but not quite sure if it should, and he carefully seated himself on Harry’s lap, sliding a hand up onto his cheek.

“Am I too heavy? I’m not squashing you, am I?” he asked breathily, resting his other hand on Harry’s rapidly rising-and-falling chest, playing with the buttons of his shirt. Harry drew in a quick breath when Draco’s fingers slipped in through the gap between the buttons.

“No. It’s fine. I’m not… squashed,” Harry assured the Slytherin.

“Good. You’re allowed to touch me as well, you know?” Draco asked with a smirk. Harry’s hands slowly began to gravitate towards Draco’s body, one landing on a hip, one landing on a knee. Draco had, to begin with, thought he would be irritated with Harry’s hesitance but somehow found himself endeared with it. He banished that thought from his head, reminding himself that Draco Manus Malfoy does not become ‘endeared’ with anything however engrossed with it he may be. He knew he was very much lying so he quickly placed his lips over Harry’s as a distraction. He kept his eyes open until he saw Harry’s flutter shut and then followed into darkness. He waited until Harry returned the pressure of the kiss before he moved his lips in any way. As Draco’s tongue worked over his lips, coaxing them open gently, Harry found himself swiftly falling deeper and deeper into the intricacies of this kiss and his hand slid up from Draco’s knee to the blonde’s backside, pulling him further onto his lap and closer to his body. Draco’s lips moved away from his and Harry opened his eyes to see him grinning widely.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Harry quickly said, removing his hand. Draco grabbed the retreating fingers and firmly slapped the hand against the cheek of his arse. He chuckled at the look of sheer surprise and amazement on the Gryffindor’s face. Draco sucked Harry’s bottom lip into his mouth for a moment before letting it go with a quiet ‘pop’.

“This is going to be interesting,” he muttered huskily. He caught a glimpse of Harry’s shy smile as he leant in for another long kiss and, for probably the first time ever, he couldn’t seem to find the expression worthy of a smirk.

_\- fin -_

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song, "Ghost Man On Third" by Taking Back Sunday.  
> This fic now has a sequel called 'Completion' which can be found on my author page.


End file.
